Archive of Our Own

The day started out surprisingly normal for being the day everything would change.

The season was over, but Shane and Ilya were still in Ottawa, having forgone a trip to the cottage that year. They’d only become fathers a month ago and didn’t feel comfortable taking their newborn twins away from their pediatrician, particularly Roman, who had only just left the NICU.

Ilya wasn’t used to spending the off-season in Ottawa and not at the cottage fishing, swimming, or jet-skiing. He had a feeling he and Shane would've been doing the same thing at the cottage that they were doing now. Watching highlights.

Ilya was watching them like a casual fan would. He was newly retired and couldn’t care less about so-and-so’s stats. Shane, on the other hand, was planning on making a return once the season started back up — something he had been ruminating over since he first left the ice.

Really, it had been an easy decision, and one that was made before Roman and Roxie were even conceived. Ilya would retire and become a stay-at-home dad. Shane would go back to the Centaurs. At first, Shane had been worried Ilya would regret his decision, not understanding that hockey meant something different to him than it did Ilya. Hockey was Shane’s life. For Ilya, it was just a job. He liked his new one better. It mainly consisted of changing diapers and frantically texting the WAG/HAB group chat for advice at 3 AM when the twins refused to sleep, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Because Shane was so anxious about returning to the ice, he had made watching highlights a homework assignment. In one arm, he was holding Roxie, while the other was used to diligently take notes in Shane’s hockey notebook. Not for the first time, Ilya fondly thought of how boring his husband was. Roman seemed to think the same, as he was fast asleep on Ilya’s chest. Even poor Anya was bored out of her mind, snoring as she slept at Ilya’s feet. Roxie began to squirm in Shane’s arms, obviously not pleased with not being the center of her dad’s attention. “Da!” she cried. Ilya gasped. He put his hand on Shane’s, stopping him from continuing his note-taking.

“Shane, she’s trying to say Dada,” he said. He then frowned. “Either that or yes in Russian.”

“Ilya, she’s a month old,” Shane said, rolling his eyes playfully.

“So?” Ilya said. “She can’t help that she’s a genius. Is just my genetics.” Shane huffed a laugh.

“I’ll be sure to tell Mom you said that,” he said.

“Fine, my genetics and some of yours,” Ilya said. Shane smirked before he turned to another page in his notebook. Ilya raised one of his eyebrows. “Another page?” He’d gone through two just while they’d been sitting there.

“It’s important,” Shane said, beginning to frantically write something.

“Shanya, you’ve never needed to take notes before,” Ilya said. “You’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that,” Shane said, his voice tense. And, yeah, Ilya guessed he didn’t know that. Shane had been off the ice for over a year. It was only natural for him to be anxious in ways not even a trip to the trophy room could settle. This wasn’t like coming back from bruised ribs or even a concussion. Coming back after being the first MLH player to get pregnant was different. Everyone would be watching, some just waiting on Shane to fail, so they could feel vindicated in their bigotry.

“I don’t, but I believe in you,” Ilya said, reaching over and gripping Shane’s thigh. “You’re the best. You always will be.”

“Wow, the best?” Shane said, smirking. “Not second best?”

“Well, the best retired, so…” Ilya said. Shane began to laugh.

“Thank you again for that,” he said once he stopped laughing.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Ilya said honestly. “Hockey has gotten boring. Raising twins? Never.” Shane smiled softly. Roxie made another noise, and he looked down at her. She was staring up at him with her bright blue eyes that were changing more and more into Ilya’s everyday.

“I don’t know how I’m going to handle being away from them,” Shane said, burying his face into Roxie’s dark hair that was beginning to curl. Ilya wasn’t sure. He knew he could never do it, not now and probably not when the twins were adults with lives of their own, but Shane had always been stronger than him. He was about to say just that when his phone rang. Roman was startled awake and began to cry.

“Oh, I’m sorry, мышонок. I thought I put it on silent,” Ilya cooed. He did his best to comfort Roman, while also reaching for his phone. He bristled when he saw that the unknown number on the screen began with the country code +7. Russia.

“What’s wrong?” Shane asked, obvious to the change in Ilya’s mood.

“Someone from Russia is calling me,” Ilya said, still staring at his ringing phone.

“Are you going to answer it?” Shane asked, his voice neutral. Ilya shook his head as he clicked decline.

“If it’s important, they’ll leave a voicemail,” he said. Shane nodded before a goal on the television caught his attention. Ilya, however, was still staring at his phone as he waited for a potential voicemail notification to appear. When it did not even a minute later, Ilya could only see the first sentence, but that was enough for him to let out a sharp breath.

Ilya, it’s Alexei.

“Fuck,” Ilya said.

“Swear jar,” Shane absentmindedly said, his eyes still on the game in front of him. When Ilya didn’t make a joke in response, he looked at him and frowned when he saw the distressed expression on his husband’s face. “What is it?”

“Alexei,” was all Ilya could say.

“Did something happen to him?” Shane asked. Ilya shook his head. He wishes.

“He was the one who called me,” he said.

“You haven’t heard from him since your dad’s funeral, right?” Shane asked. Ilya nodded, even though the question was likely rhetorical.

“He left a voicemail,” Ilya said. “I don’t know if I should listen to it.” Shane scooted closer to him on the couch. He put his hand on Ilya’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about should,” he said. “What do you want to do?” Ilya sighed. If only it were that simple, he thought to himself. And maybe it was, but it definitely didn’t seem like it.

It wasn’t like he thought about Alexei a lot. If anything, he thought more about his niece Alisa. She would’ve been 15. In three more years, she would have access to the trust fund he left for her. Every year, he made note of her birthday, always wishing he could talk to her but knowing that he couldn’t. After Ilya cut Alexei off, Alexei cut off Svetlana, who had been the one to keep up communication between him and Alisa. There were no more expensive dolls or designer dresses given to Alisa whenever Svetlana visited Russia, given to her with a quick kiss on her head and a “This is from your Uncle Ilya.” He wondered if she still had any of the gifts he’d sent. If she even remembered him. Alexei obviously did.

“How did he even get my number?” Ilya grumbled.

“We can change it again if we need to,” Shane said. Ilya had changed it when he and Shane were outed, and a barrage of text messages with slurs and hang-up calls began. Ilya still tried not to think about how the messages had been mostly written in Cyrillic. He looked back down at his phone and deleted the voicemail, almost impulsively.

“I’m not letting him ruin this,” Ilya said, snuggling Roman closer to him. You only got to be a new father once, and he’d be damned if he was going to let his brother drag him down again.

It wasn’t until a few days later that another call came. Ilya mentally chastised himself for not immediately blocking the number. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t, but he hadn’t. When his phone went off that second time, he was alone. Shane was having a much-needed spa day with Yuna, and the twins were napping in the nursery. At least his phone had been on silent this time, so they weren’t awoken. Ilya stared at his phone as it vibrated, his finger hovering over the decline button. He wanted to press it, wanted to then block the number, but something in him wouldn’t let him. Maybe if Shane had been there, he would’ve. But he was alone and vulnerable, so he clicked accept before he even knew what he was doing. “What?” he snappishly said in Russian.

“What — no hello for your favorite brother?” Alexei said. Ilya was surprised that his voice sounded the same. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like it had been that long.

“I’m hanging up,” Ilya said, but kept the phone pressed against his cheek.

“Don’t,” Alexei said. He sounded desperate, just like every time he called Ilya.

“How did you get this number?” Ilya asked.

“Sasha,” Alexei simply said. Ilya cursed under his breath. Of course. “I tried to get in from Svetlana, but she blocked me. Even when I used different numbers, she would just block me again.” Ilya smiled to himself. Of course, she did. She’d never betray him. Sasha, on the other hand…

“All that effort, and you couldn’t have scrounged together whatever money you needed?” Ilya curtly said. Alexei scoffed.

“It’s always money with you,” he said.

“Me?!” Ilya exclaimed. “Alexei, who was the one who’d call me in the middle of the night during a coke binge, begging me for money? Who was the one who’d see me in a commercial and immediately call me to ask where the money went?” Alexei was quiet. Ilya wasn’t used to his brother’s silence. It was weird.

“I know,” Alexei finally said. “This isn’t about money, though.”

“Then what’s it about?” Ilya said. He had started biting the hangnail off his thumb as he waited for Alexei’s excuse. He had to give it to his brother. He had always been creative.

“Alisa,” Alexei said. Ilya took his thumb out of his mouth, surprised to hear his niece’s name. He wasn’t sure why he was so shocked. It wasn’t like this was the first time Alexei used Alisa to garner Ilya’s sympathy.

“What happened? Is she okay?” Ilya asked, despite every fiber of his being screaming that this was just another one of Alexei’s tactics.

“She’s… she’s like you,” Alexei said after a pregnant pause.

“Like me?” Ilya said, his brows furrowing in confusion. “What does that even mean? She’s hockey player? Blonde?” Alexei scoffed.

“You know what I mean, Ilya,” he said.

“I don’t, or I wouldn’t be asking, Alexei!”

“Homosexual,” Alexei finally said, his voice no louder than a whisper.

“She’s gay?” Ilya asked. He instantly knew Alexei wasn’t lying. Even he wouldn’t say something like that about his own daughter if it weren’t true. Not in Russia. Ilya then grieved for his niece. He grieved that she had to be in Russia, where she couldn’t be herself. He grieved that she had been saddled with who was probably one of the world's worst fathers.

“I don’t know what to do with her,” Alexei said. Ilya tried to ignore the hoarseness of his brother’s voice. “Polina would’ve known, but she died a few months ago and-“

“Polina is dead?” Ilya interrupted. Despite the fact he hadn’t known his sister-in-law well, he grieved for her too. She might’ve been a mousy woman who let Alexei walk all over her, but she deserved to be there for her daughter.

“She died like Mama,” Alexei said. Ilya scoffed.

“You mean an accident?” he said. Deep down, he knew now wasn’t the time nor place to bring up old grievances, not after his brother told him he was a widower, but Ilya couldn’t bring himself to care. He had been told his mother’s death was an accident for so many years that he even began doubting his own memory.

“She killed herself,” Alexei said. Ilya didn’t think he’d ever heard his brother acknowledge what happened to their mother, even in a roundabout way like this. Still, he kept his guard up.

“Alexei, I don’t know why you’re calling me,” he said.

“Alisa isn’t safe here. You know that,” Alexei said.

“You’re her father! Protect her!” Ilya said harshly. What was it with Rozanov men and not understanding that? Ilya was just glad he wasn’t like them.

“It’s not that easy!” Alexei exclaimed. “I’m still police!”

“And I’m in Canada, so what am I supposed to do about it?” Ilya demanded. “Send you more money, so you can send her to conversion therapy?”

“Fuck you,” Alexei blurted out. “She’s my daughter.”

“Oh, so you care about her now?” Ilya retorted.

“I’m her father,” his brother said firmly.

“That never meant anything before,” Ilya said. His mind traveled back to his apartment in Boston and all the times Alexei would call him, begging for money. Occasionally, he’d hear Polina in the background, saying they needed money for food, or Alisa crying. He always sent the money, even though he knew Alexei would only spend it on drugs or gambling or whatever vice he chose that day. It was why Alisa’s trust could only be accessed by her when she turned eighteen.

“I’m clean now,” Alexei said. “I have been since Polina. Alisa needs me.” Ilya resisted the urge to tell his brother that was nothing to be proud of. Being sober for your kids was the minimum, not the standard.

“Alexei, what do you want?” Ilya asked tiredly.

“I want to get Alisa out of Russia,” Alexei said. “I want to get out of Russia.”

“And go where, hmm?” Ilya snapped. Alexei didn’t respond. He was silent long enough for Ilya to figure it out himself. “No. You’re not coming here.” Alexei let out a bitter laugh.

“I didn’t realize you became border control after you retired,” he said.

“Alexei, I have a life here!” Ilya said. He glanced at the iPad baby monitor on the coffee table that was pointed at Roman and Roxie’s cribs. They were still sleeping peacefully. “A family!”

“So, we are not your family?” Alexei said.

“Not anymore, no,” Ilya immediately said. He loved his niece. He always would. But he was a husband and father now. He had to prioritize Shane and their kids.

“Ilya, I’m not asking for much,” Alexei said, sighing. “I just need you to sponsor me, so Alisa and I can get a visa.” Ilya scoffed at the simplification.

“Oh, just sponsor you?” he said. Yes, he and Shane had enough money for multiple lifetimes, but that wasn’t the point.

“I’ll pay you back!” Alexei said. He sounded scared which made Ilya uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to that. Entitled and demanding, yes, but not scared. “I have a friend who owns a garage in Ottawa who can get me a job there. Alisa’s English is better than yours, so she could work part-time somewhere.” Ilya rested his arm on his knee and buried his head in his hand. “Ilya, please. I don’t want her to end up like Polina or Mama.” A flash of Alisa came to the forefront of Ilya’s mind. He could see her blonde curls, hear her bubbling laughter. “I know you don’t believe this, but I would do anything for her. Just like you would do for your children.” Ilya raised his head.

“You know I have children?” he quietly asked.

“Of course,” Alexei said, scoffing like it wasn’t extremely valid for Ilya to believe his brother knew nothing about his current life. “I know you’re married to Shane Hollander. I know you have two babies.”

“Why?” Ilya asked shortly. Why do you know that? Why do you care?

“Because you’re my brother,” Alexei said like he hadn’t called Ilya slurs the last time they talked, which was at their father’s funeral. “You’re my brother, Ilyusha.” Ilya could feel the tears begin to prickle behind his eyes at the diminutive. Shane occasionally called him that. Svetlana too. But he hadn’t heard the name in Alexei’s biting tone in what had to have been decades.

Ilyusha, finish your vegetables, his brother had said, his voice filled with the exhaustion of someone well beyond his years. They had been in their small, dated kitchen back in Moscow, sitting at the table that still had the dirty dishes from yesterday on it. Ilya was practically glaring at his plate, frustratingly pushing around the sorry looking vegetables left from the even sorrier looking meal Alexei had made for them. Their dad had probably been out with another woman and their mom unable to get out of bed, leaving Alexei to make dinner if they wanted to eat even though he had barely been tall enough to reach the kitchen cabinets.

“I haven’t been your brother since I stopped sending you money,” Ilya said, breaking the silence. He hung up the phone almost as quickly as he had accepted it.

Ilya was still in the same spot on the couch when Shane came home. He had spent the hour after his phone call with his brother, trying desperately not to think about him or his niece, instead focusing on watching Roman and Roxie through the baby monitor. Blessedly, they had stayed asleep. Ilya didn’t know what he would’ve done if they had woken up and started crying. He felt catatonic, and he refused to break his vow to always be there for his kids only a month into their lives.

Shane walked into the living room, carrying a small bag with the spa’s logo on it. “Hey,” he said. He was grinning. “I brought you something.” As soon as he saw the look on Ilya’s face, his face fell. “What happened? Are the twins okay?”

“Yes, they’re sleeping,” Ilya said. He picked up the iPad that monitored the babies and gave it to Shane. Shane sighed in relief when he saw them still sleeping. “I talked to Alexei.” Shane immediately put the tablet down and sat next to Ilya on the couch, putting his hand on his leg. Truthfully, Ilya had been afraid Shane would call him stupid or naive for answering Alexei’s call. As Shane stared earnestly at him, a look of concern on his face, Ilya couldn’t believe he ever thought so low of his husband.

“What did he say?” Shane asked.

“A lot but also nothing,” Ilya said with a bitter laugh. “Polina committed suicide, and Alisa is a lesbian.” Shane’s dark brown eyes widened.

“Wow,” he said, releasing a breath. “That’s a lot.” He moved his hand from Ilya’s lap to his cheek, beginning to caress him. “I’m sorry, baby.” The tears Ilya had been trying to prevent began to freely fall down his face.

“Polina was just like my mom in her marriage,” Ilya said after an ugly sniffle. “They were both young and innocent, too young and innocent for the monsters they married.” Shane wiped away one of Ilya’s tears before resting his head on his shoulder.

“So, what did he want?” he quietly asked.

“He said he doesn’t want money,” Ilya said. “He just wants me to help him move to Canada with Alisa.”

“And you don’t believe him?” Shane said.

“Of course, I don’t,” Ilya said harsher than he intended. “I’m not stupid.” Shane didn’t even blink.

“So, you said no?” he said, lifting his head from Ilya’s shoulder.

“I hung up,” Ilya said, forcing a nonchalant shrug. After several seconds of silence, Ilya looked at Shane, who was staring back at him. There was a slight frown on his face. “You think I’m horrible for saying no.”

“No,” Shane immediately said, shaking his head. “You heard him out, and that’s way more than he deserves.”

“Then what?” Ilya said sharply.

“I’m just thinking about Alisa,” Shane said, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“And I’m not?” Ilya said.

“Ilya,” Shane said firmly, using his newfound “dad voice”. Like always, it worked.

“I’m sorry,” Ilya said, sighing. “I’m projecting.” Shane didn’t nod, instead squeezing his hand. Suddenly, a whimper rang through the baby monitor that almost immediately turned into full on wails.

“Roksana,” Shane said, looking at the monitor. “I’ll go get her.” Ilya nodded. He watched as his husband left the room and went up the stairs. Left alone again, his thoughts went back to Alisa. He was worried about her, but his anger towards Alexei was stronger, no matter how wrong that seemed, how wrong Ilya knew it was.

Ilya couldn’t sleep that night. Shane tried to stay up with him and distract him from his own mind, but he was still postpartum and exhausted and fell asleep in the middle of a sentence about trauma. Ilya thought it was adorable, but, unfortunately, that meant his mind was left to run wild.

Deciding he wasn’t about to get any sleep anytime soon, Ilya turned away from watching Shane sleep and picked his phone up off his nightstand. He opened it and began mindlessly scrolling through various apps. Something told him to check his email (or at least that’s what it seemed like), so he did. He deleted a few spam emails before landing on a notification from Facebook. He opened it, despite not having opened the app itself in years. The subject was You have memories to look back on today. The body of the email was On this day 15 years ago with a link below it. Ilya knew it was probably just a cringe picture of him and Svetlana in neon sunglasses with lines covering the eyes or them pretending their fingers were mustaches, but he still clicked on it. Of course, it wasn’t that simple. Nothing ever was. Ilya was met with a picture of his much younger self in his family’s old apartment in Moscow, holding a newborn baby wrapped in a knitted blanket. Alisa. On the surface, she looked nothing like Roman and Roxie, but Ilya couldn’t help but see certain similarities, like their similar curl pattern and bright eyes. He had practically still been a teenager when he became an uncle, and that was evident by the way he was awkwardly holding Alisa. The caption only had a heart made out of symbols, but Ilya remembered that day like it was yesterday.

He fell asleep with his phone on his chest, thinking about how Alisa used to sleep on his chest, even through Alexei and Polina engaging in one of their many screaming matches, even through his whispers that Uncle Ilya would always be there for her.

Ilya woke up, that memory still playing on a loop. He unlocked his phone and pressed Alexei’s number in his call history without much thought. Alexei answered on the first ring. “What do you need me to do?” Ilya snapped before Alexei could even say hello.

One hour and 54 minutes. That’s how long he had been on the phone with Alexei. The sun was barely up, and Ilya already felt exhausted. Still, he forced himself to get out of bed, knowing Shane would’ve started his day much earlier. When he walked into the kitchen, he saw Shane sitting at their table as he fed Roman. “Morning,” Shane said. He looked up at Ilya and frowned. “Everything okay?”

“I talked to Alexei,” Ilya blurted out. He sat next to Shane and folded his arms on the surface of the table before burying his head in them. Shane put his hand on Ilya’s back and rubbed it. “I told him I’d help him and Alisa. I know I shouldn’t have. I know I should’ve talked to you about it first. I know-“

“Ilya,” Shane suddenly said. Ilya looked up from his arms and saw his husband’s gentle smile. “It’s okay. You did what you had to do.”

“What if this is just another one of Alexei’s plots?” Ilya said. “What if he’s just using me?”

“Then he’s more of a dick than we thought,” Shane said simply. Ilya snorted. “Whatever happens though, you’ll still have our family. You’ll still have me. Always.” Ilya allowed himself to sigh in relief.

“I love you,” he said. Shane leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on his head.

“I love you too,” he said. “It’ll be okay.” Ilya nodded, despite a growing feeling that it very much wouldn’t be.

Ilya introduced Alexei to the immigration lawyer who had helped him when he first became a Canadian citizen. Alexei couldn’t afford a lawyer in Russia, let alone Canada, which meant Ilya was the one signing the checks for the attorney’s exorbitant retainer. Alexei may have insisted his calling Ilya wasn’t about money, but Ilya found that hard to believe when the bill came in. At the very least, Ilya was making sure the money went directly to the attorney or the government or whoever he needed to pay to get Alexei and Alisa to Canada and not up Alexei’s nose like it used to.

It hadn’t even been a week since that first call when Ilya’s phone began to vibrate on the kitchen counter as he made lunch. He thought it was Shane who had gone to the grocery store, saying he’d call him when he was there, but the number that was flashing on his screen was Russian. It wasn’t Alexei’s number, which Ilya had reluctantly saved under alexei (brother). Ilya’s body became tense like he was about to go into war, and he pinched his nose before accepting the call. “Hello,” he said in Russian, aloof.

“Uncle Ilya,” he heard in his mother tongue. Ilya came from around the counter and sat in one of the barstools at the island.

“Alisa?” he said in disbelief.

“Hi, Uncle Ilya,” his niece said. Logically, Ilya knew she was no longer the little girl with pigtails and a gap in her teeth, but he couldn’t believe how old she sounded. “Papa gave me your phone number. I hope that’s okay.” Ilya tried to clear his throat before he replied in an attempt to steady his voice.

“Yes, of-of course,” he said, his efforts failing. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Alisa said. She didn’t sound sure, and Ilya wondered who she was trying to convince more— him or herself. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me and Papa. I know your relationship with him is… complicated.” Ilya couldn’t help but scoff. Complicated wasn’t the word he would’ve used. Toxic or even non-existent made more sense.

“That’s one word for it,” he said. “What about your relationship?”

“With Papa?” Alisa asked. Ilya hummed his assent. “It’s gotten better. Mama dying changed things.” Ilya wondered what his life would’ve been like if his father had supported his children after the death of their mother instead of abusing and alienating them.

“So, he is okay? With you being gay?” Ilya asked. He hadn’t heard one slur or even negative comment towards Alisa come from Alexei’s mouth. Of course, he hadn’t heard anything positive either. At least not about her being gay.

“He tries,” Alisa said with a short laugh. “I know he doesn’t understand, but he loves me.” Ilya couldn’t imagine Alexei loving anything but drugs and money, but he kept that to himself. He wasn’t about to tell his niece that her dad only cared about himself, and she was likely just the means to an end, whether that was running away from gambling debt or just his own ghosts. “You don’t believe me, do you?” Ilya supposed his silence was enough of a comment.

“Sorry,” he said, genuinely meaning it. He didn’t want to hurt her. “I just don’t know that side of him.”

“I didn’t either,” Alisa said. “At least, not for awhile. He still talks about you, you know?”

“Let me guess,” Ilya said with a bitter huff. “He likes to talk about how I ruined our family and call me slurs.”

“Sometimes, but not recently,” Alisa said honestly. Ilya smirked. That was one thing he missed about Slavic countries. There was no tip-toeing around in order to spare someone’s feelings. People were blunt. Honest. “I think he misses you. I can stay in Russia. I’d be fine, I think. I could pretend. I wouldn’t be happy, but I’d be fine. I don’t think Papa would be. Ever since Mama, he’s lost.” Ilya frowned.

“I’m sorry about your mom, Alisa,” he quietly said. “I lost my mom the same way.”

“Grandma Irina,” Alisa said.

“Yes,” Ilya croaked. “Your papa talks about her?” He was shocked Alisa even knew her grandmother’s name. After her death, Alexei rarely mentioned her unless it was to call her selfish or a bad mother.

“All the time,” Alisa replied. “Every year, we go to her grave and put down flowers. Eight lilies.” The dam finally broke. The tears that had been threatening to fall since the conversation started rushed down Ilya’s cheeks. He knew Alexei didn’t know the significance behind lilies for him and Shane, but just the thought of his mother’s grave being taken care of, being visited, brought him to tears. He had always been worried her grave would be vandalized or never see fresh flowers unless it was one of the rare times Svetlana visited. To know that wasn’t the case…

“Thank you,” Ilya said hoarsely. He wanted to say more, but he was interrupted by the sound of a crying baby.

“Is that your baby?” Alisa asked as Ilya made his way to the twins’ nursery. Ilya put his phone on speaker and set it down on the changing table.

“Your cousin, yes,” he said, walking over to Roman’s crib where he was red-faced and wailing. Ilya picked him up and held him close to his chest as he sympathetically cooed at him. “I know. It’s so tough being a baby, isn’t it?” He heard Alisa laugh, which caused him to smile. “His name is Roman. Roksana is his twin. We call her Roxie. Well, Shane doesn’t.”

“Roman and Roxie,” Alisa said, sounding a bit breathless. Ilya wondered if she too recognized the impossibility of the scenario. To go from having not spoken to this.

“Do you want to say hi?” Ilya asked after Roman calmed down a bit. He then cringed. Of course, she didn’t. She was fifteen. She didn’t want to talk to a baby.

“Yes,” Alisa said before Ilya could backpedal. Ilya smiled softly.

“Roman,” Ilya said. “Someone special wants to say hi.” Roman looked up at him, his light blue eyes attentive like he also understood how important what was going on was.

“Hi, Roman,” Alisa said, speaking in heavily accented English for the first time. “I’m your cousin, Alisa. I hope I can meet you and your sister one day.”

Alisa continued to call him. Every day at the same time. It became such an integral part of Ilya’s day that he couldn’t believe he ever lived without it. He’d sit on the couch and put her on speaker; that way, she could coo at the twins or talk to Shane. It had been awkward between the two of them at first. Alisa didn’t like hockey, and that was Shane’s go-to topic when he was in uncomfortable social situations. It was looking grim until Shane offhandedly mentioned The X-Files, and that had opened the floodgates. Now, they watched episodes together on some random media sharing website Luca had to set up for him.

Ilya’s calls with Alexei were, of course, different. He always called at random times, and Ilya had been Pavlov-ed into feeling dread every time his phone went off because of how tense the calls tended to be. It wasn’t like Alexei said anything cruel or offensive. Mainly, they just talked about logistics. Ilya was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The day Alexei and Alisa were to arrive at the Ottawa Airport on visas Ilya hesitantly sponsored, he felt like he was going to throw up. Roman and Roxie were at home with Yuna and David, while he and Shane waited impatiently for Alexei and Alisa’s connecting flight from the Toronto Airport. It had been a long journey for both of them, especially for Alisa, who had never been out of the country before.

Shane and Ilya were waiting in the terminal, Shane pacing in front of the doors that led to customs. Ilya was pretending to be nonchalant, but he had been frantically checking his phone for another text after Alexei’s landed one over an hour ago. He wasn’t surprised it was taking so long for them to get through immigration. After all, they had Russian passports, which weren’t exactly looked favorably upon these days. Still, his mind was running a million miles an hour. “This is a bad idea,” Ilya said for the umpteenth time, like Alexei and Alisa’s potential trouble with customs only confirmed that. Shane scoffed.

“Baby, I’m pretty sure it’s too late for that,” he said.

“Nuh-uh,” Ilya said, shaking his head. “We could leave right now. Alexei doesn’t know our address.”

“I imagine it would be on his application, Ilya,” Shane said. Ilya grumbled unintelligibly to himself. Shane sighed. He stopped pacing and put his arms around his husband’s waist before kissing his cheek. “It’s going to be okay. And, if it’s not, my mom will deal with it.” Ilya grinned.

“I will happily set Yuna on Alexei,” he said. Shane began to laugh, only stopping when the automatic doors they’d been standing by for hours once again opened. They both looked up in time to see a tired-looking man in his 40s and an anxious teenage girl walk through the doors. Ilya’s stomach had been turning all day, but laying eyes on Alexei only made it worse. His brother had aged more than he should’ve in the time they hadn’t seen each other but otherwise looked the same. Alisa, of course, looked so much different, no longer a little girl. She reminded Ilya of the few pictures of his mom as a teenager he had seen. Alisa’s eyes were nervously darting around the terminal as she walked close to her dad, big and tall. She was holding his hand, making her look younger than she already was. Ilya couldn’t imagine looking to Alexei of all people for comfort. He tried not to think about how, once upon a time, he had done the same. “That’s them.” It was pointless to say, as Shane surely could tell as much, given Ilya’s reaction. Ilya raised one of his hands to get Alexei’s attention. His dark brown eyes met Ilya’s. There weren’t any smiles or running to hug each other like he’d seen reunited families do all afternoon. Instead, Alexei said something to Alisa, whose eyes found his in the crowd. She at least smiled. Still, they both calmly walked over to Ilya and Shane.

“Ilya,” Alexei said. His voice was gruff and tired. Ilya didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded.

“Hi, Uncle,” Alisa said. She threw her arms around Ilya, and he couldn’t help but hug her back.

“You are taller,” he dumbly said. Alisa laughed.

“That’s what happens when you age,” she jokingly said. Shane snorted, which brought Ilya back to what he’d been most anxious about. He had to introduce his husband to his conservative, homophobic brother. Ilya took Shane’s hand and watched as Alexei flinched before nervously looking around the room, like he expected them to be arrested on the spot.

“This is my husband Shane,” Ilya said, ignoring his brother’s reaction as he grinned proudly at Shane.

“Hi, Shane,” Alisa said, waving shyly like she hadn’t spent an hour on the phone with him last week, discussing some X-Files episode about some weird family on a farm.

“Hey, Alisa,” Shane said. He also looked a bit shy, but that was just Shane. He held out his hand in front of Alexei. “Alexei.”

“Shane,” Alexei said. He took Shane’s hand and shook it firmly. Ilya felt goosebumps. Months ago, he couldn’t have imagined his brother uttering Shane’s name. It felt just as unlikely as hearing his mom say it. Maybe even more so since he often talked to her about Shane in his dreams.

Somehow, the baggage from Alexei and Alisa’s flight still wasn’t on a carousel, so they had to wait even longer for that. Eventually, they got their bags, and the four of them walked to the parking lot where Shane’s sensible SUV was. Roman and Roxie’s car seats had been taken out of the backseat, making the car look emptier than usual, but giving Alexei and Alisa room. The thirty-minute drive back to their house was mostly quiet, minus Alisa occasionally gasping and pointing out things she had only seen on TV, like Tim Horton’s or Canadian Tire.

When they finally pulled into their driveway, Ilya was relieved. He couldn’t handle it being just the four of them in a confined space for much longer. “I can’t wait to meet Roman and Roxie,” Alisa said as Ilya helped her with her plain black suitcase. “I love babies.”

“Good, so you can babysit then,” Ilya said, only slightly joking.

“That’s what she did in Moscow,” Alexei suddenly said. “She babysat. She took classes and got certified in CPR.”

“Papa,” Alisa groaned, her pale cheeks turning pink. Alexei just smiled at her. He looked proud.

“You’ll be perfect then,” Shane then said as they walked into the house. Alexei and Alisa’s eyes had widened when they first pulled into the large house’s driveway, but they looked even more in awe of the foyer with dark herringbone floors and a huge ceiling with a contemporary, though tasteful, chandelier. “Mom, Dad, we’re back!” Yuna, who had probably just been around the hall, quickly walked into the foyer, Roxie in her arms. David, a little less eager (which wasn’t to say he wasn’t looking forward to meeting Ilya’s family for the first time; Yuna was just Yuna) trailed behind her, holding Roman.

“Hello,” Yuna said, smiling politely at Alexei and Alisa, which was a complete 180 from her threatening to drag Alexei back to Russia herself if he stepped out of line earlier that day.

“Dada! Papa!” Roxie said, cheering like they’d been gone for weeks and not just hours. She was reaching for Shane, who happily took her in his arms and kissed her temple.

“Uh, Yuna, David, this is Alexei and Alisa,” Ilya said. “Alexei, Alisa, these are Shane’s parents and, of course, Roman and Roxie.”

“It’s good to meet you, Alexei,” David said, holding out his hand like Shane had earlier. Alexei shook it. “Ilya’s told us a lot about you.” Ilya most certainly had not, but he guessed that was just what people said when they first met someone.

“Hello,” Alexei said in stilted English.

“Welcome to Canada!” Yuna said as she shook his hand. Alexei seemed surprised by her strength, which made Ilya smirk. Never underestimate Yuna Hollander. Yuna smiled at Alisa. “Hi, Alisa.”

“Hi,” Alisa said, smiling back at her, although a lot more shyly.

“How was your flight?” David asked.

“Okay,” Alexei said.

“Long,” Alisa sighed at the same time. David laughed.

“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” he said. Roman began squirming in his arms and whimpering. “I think he wants his papa.”

“Come here, Romochka,” Ilya cooed as David gave him the upset baby. Roman rested his head on Ilya’s shoulder, apprehensively glancing at the two new strangers. “Roman, you remember Alisa, don’t you?”

“Hi, Roman,” Alisa said, beaming at him. Roman didn’t say anything, instead shyly burying his face in Ilya’s neck. Alisa didn’t seem offended as she began to laugh.

“He’s very shy,” Ilya said.

“Always,” Shane said, nodding. Roxie, on the other hand, was smiling at Alisa. And maybe Alexei, but Ilya wasn’t ready to acknowledge that. “Roksana, what about you? Remember Alisa? Your cousin?”

“Lisa!” Roxie exclaimed, clapping her chubby hands together. Everyone laughed. Even Alexei cracked a smile.

“Do you want to hold her?” Shane asked Alisa. Ilya was shocked. Shane didn’t let just anyone hold the babies.

“Can I?” Alisa asked, gasping.

“Here,” Shane said. He gave Roxie to Alisa, helping her support her weight.

“Hi, Roxie! You’re so cute!” Alisa gushed. Roxie giggled and began pulling on Alisa’s single messy braid. “Do you like my hair?” Roxie began to babble incoherently, Alisa nodding along like she understood everything her cousin was saying.

Yuna and David stayed for dinner and didn’t leave until they were at least temporarily assured Alexei wasn’t about to commit murder or something. Alisa had gone to bed, exhausted from the multiple flights, and Shane was putting the twins down to do the same. It left Alexei and Ilya alone for the first time that day, the first time in years.

Ilya was standing over the sink, handwashing the dishes from dinner. They, of course, had a dishwasher, but Ilya liked to wash the dishes himself, especially when he was stressed. Alexei was helping him dry but mostly just hovered while he drank a beer. “Your children are very cute,” he said suddenly. Ilya smiled.

“I know,” he said.

“They must take after your husband because you were ugly baby,” Alexei said, laughing. Ilya looked up at him and glared. “What? You were!”

“I was not,” Ilya said, even though he couldn’t exactly remember what he had looked like.

“You had one single hair and always looked pissed off,” Alexei said. “I used to ask why you were so ugly, and Mama would just laugh.”

“Don’t talk about her,” Ilya snapped. Alexei practically jumped, startled by Ilya’s sudden change in mood.

“Why can I not talk about her?” he said in that smug tone of his, the tone he used when he wanted to provoke Ilya like poking a bear during hibernation. “She was my mother too. She was my mother first.” Ilya scoffed.

“You didn’t even care about her,” he said.

“I didn’t care about her?” Alexei said incredulously. “Is that why I washed her hair for her? Or fed her like a baby when she refused to eat?” Ilya didn’t remember any of that. He remembered it being bad, of course, but not that bad. Alexei scoffed. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know enough!” Ilya yelled, slamming the mug he’d been washing down. He was just glad it didn’t break since it was David’s gift for him for his first Father’s Day. “I know Papa made me tell the police it was an accident! I know that you and Papa acted like she was selfish when she was really just sick!”

“She was selfish, Ilya!” Alexei said. “You were just too young to notice!” Ilya shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Besides, if she was so selfish, why did you still visit her grave and leave flowers?” Alexei looked at him, shocked. “Alisa told me.” Ilya felt bad for ratting out his niece but wasn’t sure what other explanation there could possibly be.

“Because she was still my mama,” Alexei said, his voice cracking. There were tears in his eyes. “I think she tried her best, just like Polina did. That doesn’t mean I’m not pissed off at them for choosing to leave us.” Us. Alexei and Ilya. Alexei and Alisa.

“I don’t think it was a choice,” Ilya said quietly. “When someone dies from cancer, it’s not their choice, right? The illness was just… it was just too strong.” Alexei didn’t agree, but he didn’t disagree either. He just threw away his empty bottle of beer.

“I’m going to bed,” he said. He began walking out of the kitchen before pausing in the doorway. “Thank you.” Ilya just nodded, not even bothering to look up from the dishes he was washing.

The following morning, Ilya woke up to an empty bed, which wasn’t exactly unusual. He liked to sleep in when he could, and Shane was an early riser. He had probably already completed his sunrise yoga/meditation session.

Ilya had almost forgotten about the fact that his brother and niece were actually with him, here, in Canada, until he went downstairs and saw two extra pairs of shoes in the foyer. He walked into the kitchen where Shane was making one of his smoothies. Ilya approached him from behind, wrapping his arms around his waist and nuzzling his neck. “Morning,” he said.

“Hi,” Shane said. He turned around in Ilya’s arms and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“Is anyone else awake?” Ilya asked.

“Uh, I think your brother is,” Shane said. “I think I heard him on the phone. The twins and probably Alisa are still asleep.” As if he had been summoned, Alexei walked into the kitchen, tiredly rubbing his eyes. He was wearing a dark red robe with plaid pajama pants that looked almost exactly like what their father used to wear at nighttime. “Oh, hey, Alexei.” Shane tried to break free from Ilya’s embrace, but Ilya just held him tighter. This was their house. He didn’t care how his brother felt about the PG-level affection they displayed.

“Hello,” Alexei said. Ilya could tell he was uncomfortable and felt slightly thrilled at the prospect instead of guilty. “I have a meeting with my friend who I’m working for in a few hours. Can you watch Alisa?”

“Of course,” Shane immediately said. Shane was too nice. Yes, Ilya agreed with him, but there was nothing wrong with making Alexei sweat for a bit.

“I shouldn’t be gone long,” his brother said, nodding his thanks.

“Do you want breakfast first?” Shane asked. Alexei’s eyes went to the chunky, green smoothie Shane had in the blender, a grimace on his face. Ilya wanted to yell at him for being ungrateful, despite the fact he knew just how gross Shane’s smoothies tended to be. Shane just laughed though. “Don’t worry. We have normal people food. Ilya’s a great cook.” Alexei raised one of his eyebrows.

“You cook?” he said in disbelief. Ilya glared at him.

He hadn’t really been planning on making more than some eggs and toast, but his brother’s apprehension towards his culinary skills had him making an entire continental breakfast that you’d see on an American sitcom. Much to his delight, Alisa couldn’t stop raving about how good everything was while they ate at the breakfast nook. “This is better than anything Papa has ever made,” his niece said, her mouth full of bacon. Alexei rolled his eyes but didn’t disagree as he shoved a forkful of pancake in his mouth. He had syrup on the corner of his mouth, which made him the second messiest eater at the table next to Roxie in her high chair.

“What time do you need to leave, Alexei?” Shane asked as he did his best to wipe the syrup from Roxie’s face.

“You’re leaving?” Alisa said, frowning as she looked at her father. Alexei winced, like he had known this was coming.

“I’m meeting Nikolai at the garage,” he said. “I’ll only be gone a few hours.”

“Can I go with you?” Alisa asked. Alexei shook his head but didn’t meet her gaze.

“No, you’ll be better off here,” he said. Ilya looked back and forth at his brother and niece like he was at a tennis match. It didn’t take him long to notice the tears welling up in Alisa’s eyes. “Alisa-“ Before anything else could be said, Alisa roughly pushed out her chair and stormed off. Seconds later, they heard a door slam. The sudden noise made Roman begin crying.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Ilya said as he took Roman from his high chair and held him close. He rubbed his back in an attempt to comfort him, but his eyes never left Alexei who almost seemed as upset as Alisa. “What was that about?”

“Ever since Polina, she doesn’t want me to leave,” Alexei said. He sniffed and rubbed his nose.

“Oh,” Ilya said. He remembered being the same way with their father after their mother’s suicide, despite what a terrible man he had been.

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Shane said. Alexei nodded stiffly.

“Thank you,” he said.

Even an hour after Alexei left, Alisa still hadn’t come out of the guest bedroom. Ilya had texted her when he had first left, inviting her downstairs to watch X-Files with him and Shane. She never responded. “Should I go check on her?” Ilya eventually asked. Shane, who was sitting on the floor with Roman and Roxie as they played with blocks, looked up at him.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I know she needs her space, but I don’t really feel comfortable with her being alone when she’s that upset.” Ilya nodded. He didn’t want to think about what that could lead to. “Listen, why don’t you take her somewhere fun? Just the two of you. You guys can bond or whatever.” Ilya looked at the twins who were contentedly playing together. Sure, they were fine now, but would they be the same in an hour? He didn’t want to leave Shane alone to deal with them, but he couldn’t deny that it was a good idea.

“Are you sure?” Ilya asked.

“Positive,” Shane said, smiling. “Maybe I can finally get some peace and quiet with you gone.” Ilya jokingly shoved Shane’s shoulder and stood up. “Hey!”

“I’m going to go talk to her,” Ilya said.

“You’ll do great,” Shane said, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “I know you’re nervous about being around her.” Ilya wasn’t surprised his husband knew that. He had said as much when this entire plan first came to fruition. He loved babies and children. Teenagers though? No. Ilya tousled Shane’s black hair before going upstairs. He walked down the long hallway and stopped outside the door to one of their guest bedrooms.

“Alisa,” he said, gently knocking on the door. “It’s Ilya.”

“Come in,” Ilya heard a croaky voice say. He opened the door. Alisa was sitting crosslegged on the bed, her phone in her lap and a pair of purple headphones over her head. He could hear Russian rap coming out of her headphones and would’ve told her to turn down the volume, so she wouldn’t burst her eardrums if that wouldn’t have been the pot calling the kettle black. Shane told him to do the same at least once a day. She at least took them off when Ilya sat beside her on the bed.

“I was afraid to let anyone leave after my mama’s death too,” he began, putting a hand on her lap. She glared at him.

“I’m not afraid,” she said. Ilya raised one of his eyebrows and looked at her pointedly. “I’m not! I just… I just don’t want to lose anyone else.”

“I know how you feel,” Ilya said. “I still feel that way sometimes.”

“So, it doesn’t ever go away?” Alisa asked, frowning. Ilya sighed.

“It gets easier, but no, it doesn’t go away,” he said. Alisa sniffled and wiped at her red eyes. “Listen, why don’t we go out? We can do whatever you want. Just the two of us.”

“Why isn’t Shane coming?” Alisa asked with a frown.

“Oh, so you like him more than your own uncle?” Ilya joked.

“You’re both my uncles, stupid,” Alisa said, rolling her eyes. Ilya laughed.

“Well, between you and me, Uncle Shane is getting old and needs his naps,” he dramatically whispered. Alisa snorted.

“Can we go to the movies?” she asked.

“Yes,” Ilya said, nodding. “But we cannot see anything scary.” Alisa smirked.

“You’re a baby,” she teased. Ilya took one of the many throw pillows on the bed and hit her with it. He heard someone scoff, turned around, and saw Shane standing in the doorway.

“Shane, your niece was bullying me,” Ilya said, pouting. “She likes you better than me.”

“Well, you just hit her with a pillow, so I wouldn’t exactly blame her.”

Alisa ended up choosing for them to watch a movie called A24. When Ilya had asked if he needed to see the other 23 first, Alisa had started laughing and texting her group chat of friends back in Russia, so there was that. She enjoyed it though as well as the concession stand. Ilya had bought her the largest size popcorn they had and showed her how to combine a bunch of different sodas with the Coke Freestyle machine.

By the time they got back home, Alisa’s mood had significantly improved, and Alexei was back at home. They walked into the living room where he was standing over the twins’ playpen. Roman held up his arms, moving his hands in a grabby motion as he whined. “Okay, okay,” Alexei said, bending down to pick him up. Roman gave him a gooey, toothless smile as he grabbed at the gold chain around his neck. Alexei smiled back at him and cooed until he noticed Ilya and Alisa watching him, and he cleared his throat. Ilya couldn’t stop grinning. “Uh, how was the movie?”

“Papa, look how big our popcorn was!” Alisa said, running over to her father. She dug into her canvas bag and took out her phone. She showed Alexei the picture Ilya had taken of her earlier with a bucket of popcorn larger than her head. “Uncle Ilya said they have even bigger sizes in America!” Alisa continued to excitedly talk about her day as Ilya walked into the kitchen. Shane was holding Roxie as he cut up an apple.

“Hey,” he said, looking up with a grin. “How was the movie?”

“I fell asleep, but Alisa liked it,” Ilya said.

“Ilya!” Shane said. “You know you snore!” Ilya gasped, dramatically placing his hand over his heart.

“I do not!” he said. “That is slander! I’m calling Farah!” Shane laughed.

“Is Roman still playing?” he asked.

“No,” Ilya said, shaking his head. “He demanded Alexei hold him. I think he likes him.”

“Really?” Shane said, looking genuinely shocked. “It took him months to even be okay with Mom holding him.”

“Maybe he thinks he’s me,” Ilya said with a shrug. “Babies have very poor eyesight, you know?”

“I don’t know if it’s that bad,” Shane said, laughing. “He’s good with them though. I know I shouldn’t be surprised since he has Alisa, but I am.” Admittedly, Ilya was too, considering he could only remember a handful of times Alexei even held Alisa when she was a baby. Usually, she was in Polina’s arms or left to her own devices. Alexei being good with his kids wasn’t on his bingo card and left him with mixed emotions. It wasn’t like he wanted Roman and Roxie to hate him. It was just, if they had, it would’ve been easier for Ilya to continue hating Alexei himself. As it was, he was letting his guard down. Ilya worried that, like always, that would be his downfall with Alexei.

Once again, Ilya couldn’t sleep. He’d have to talk to his psychiatrist about maybe adding a sleeping aid to his regimen if this continued. Not wanting to wake up Shane with his tossing and turning, he went downstairs and into the kitchen, already thinking about what midnight snack he wanted. He’d been indulging more lately now that he was retired. Ilya liked to joke it looked like he had the twins, not Shane, whose body had bounced back almost immediately. Of course, he still exercised, but it was a drop in the ocean compared to playing major league hockey. He kind of liked his new dad bod though. Shane definitely did.

When Ilya walked into the kitchen, he saw Alexei sitting at the island counter, eating a bag of chips. “Hey,” Ilya said. Alexei looked up at him.

“Hey,” he said. Ilya went into the pantry, standing there for several seconds before deciding on a chocolate chip granola bar that was more chocolate than granola. He sat down at the island counter next to Alexei.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he said. Alexei shook his head. “How did your meeting go?”

“Good,” he said, a small smile appearing on his face. “He said I can start next week.”

“You’re going to be working at a garage?” Ilya asked. He didn’t know why he was suddenly feeling so chatty with Alexei. He blamed the sleep deprivation. Alexei nodded in response. “I didn’t know you liked cars.” While Ilya had expressed an interest in fast cars from the time he was old enough to talk, Alexei never seemed to care for them. They lived in the city center, so it wasn’t like they drove a lot.

“We got a car when Alisa first started school,” Alexei said. “It was a piece of junk, so I had to fix it up. It was a good distraction from everything.” Ilya wondered if he meant drugs, gambling, or the likely combination of both.

“Have you seen my cars in the garage?” Ilya asked. He wasn’t trying to brag. He wasn’t. But, after getting rid of most of his collection when he first moved to Ottawa, he was beginning to build it up again and wanted to talk about it with someone other than Shane, who would just grimace and talk about their lack of practicality. “I can show you tomorrow.” Alexei nodded. He didn’t look excited per se, but it was something close.

“You’ve done well, Ilyusha,” Alexei suddenly said. Ilya's head snapped in his direction, his eyes wide. “Mama would be proud.”

“I don’t know,” Ilya said, shrugging as he feigned indifference. “Maybe she’d hate me for being gay. Hate Shane too. Think we were disgusting and going to hell.” His mother had been very religious. All the times he had told Shane how much Irina would’ve loved him, the caveat if she wasn’t homophobic was included.

“Maybe,” Alexei said. Ilya laughed, despite himself. “But maybe not? Why think like that when you only have proof she loved you?” Ilya sighed. It was a nice thought, but he wasn’t convinced. Of course, he never thought Alexei would be okay with his husband and their children, so what did he know?

“I guess,” Ilya acquiesced. “She loved you too, you know?” Ilya didn’t know why he said that. It just seemed like the right time. To his surprise, Alexei let out a bitter laugh and shook his head.

“No, I was too much like Papa for her to love,” he said. “I was the darkness. You were the light.” Ilya tried to scan his brain for any memories that contradicted what Alexei said, but he couldn’t. If anything, he could only think of memories that proved his point. Memories of her hugging Ilya, while only glancing at Alexei. Memories of her kissing his injuries and carefully placing a band-aid on his knee, while only throwing the box at Alexei. Maybe it was because Alexei was older, but he had also been just a kid. Still, he understood his mom. She had been so young when Alexei was born, preyed upon by a predator like a shark who smelled blood in the water. She had only been 19 when Alexei was born. Ilya thought of himself at that age. He couldn’t imagine even taking care of a fish then, let alone an entire child.

“I’m sorry,” Ilya said, because, however he felt about their mom, Alexei felt differently. He was beginning to believe that was okay. Alexei just waved him off.

“You had Mama, and I had Papa,” he said. “Sometimes.” Ilya didn’t think that was much of a comparison, considering who their father was.

“Thank you for still taking care of her grave,” he said. Alexei nodded tensely.

“It was Polina’s idea. She made sure we did it every year,” he said. Ilya was surprised. He had always thought of his sister-in-law as the self-effacing girl who let Alexei spend money that should’ve fed their child. And, honestly, that had probably been true, but, for the first time, Ilya thought of her like his mother. Sad. Not weak. “Her sister promised to keep Polina and Mama’s graves in good condition.” Ilya could feel tears begin to well up in his eyes as he thought of a complete stranger showing kindness towards his mother, who had experienced so very little of it when she had been alive.

“Good,” was all Ilya was able to croak. Neither he nor Alexei mentioned their father’s grave, the one far away from where their mother was buried at Ilya’s own insistence. He had been the one to pay for the funeral and burial, so it had been his decision. He was still comfortable with it.

“Ilya," Alexei said after a few minutes of silence, "I’m sorry for all the things I said to you. The things I called you. I apologized to Svetlana too, but how I acted at Papa’s funeral wasn’t right.”

“You were probably high,” Ilya said, shrugging. Alexei shook his head.

“That doesn’t excuse it,” he said. Ilya nodded. It really didn’t.

“How did you react when Alisa told you?” he asked since they were apparently talking about feelings now. Galina would be proud.

“I cried,” Alexei said. Ilya frowned. “I didn’t cry for me but for her. I cried because I knew she’d never be able to be herself unless she left like you did.” Ilya knew how true that was. If anything, with new laws regarding so-called propaganda and the genocidal war being waged against Ukraine, Russia had gotten worse. “I don’t understand. I don’t think I ever will understand, you know, why she’s different. Why you’re different. I just can’t bring myself to care anymore, not after losing our parents and Polina. I would do anything not to lose Alisa too.”

“Maybe stop thinking of us as so different,” Ilya said, but he was smirking. “You’ve seen me and Shane. We’re just like everyone else. Shane tells me to stop putting my mugs down without a coaster, and I tell him to stop hogging the covers in bed.” A small smile appeared on Alexei’s face.

“I want that for Alisa,” he said, nodding determinedly.

“Then I guess it’s good you’re here,” Ilya said, resting his hand on his brother’s tense shoulder. He could almost see their mother smiling down at both of them.